The Problem With English

 . . . is that everyone in my Chorus class understands it. Meanwhile me and my best friend Katy don't share a second language. Thus, when on the subject of holidays, it's very easy to be eavesdropped on.

I'll elaborate. Today in chorus class the teacher took aside the show choir(think singing+dancing+way too many solos) to practise for the upcoming concert, and left the rest of us to either practice for our solo and ensamble pieces or do homework.

Somehow that led to only me, Katy, a (slightly ditzy)Freshman named Olivia, and a few Seniors that were in the musical being left in the room, no teacher or anything. No, we didn't immediately start a party and set things on fire. Shocking, I know. The Seniors, Lauren and Branden sat in the back of the Soprano section talking, I goofed around with Katy for a while before reading, then looked up and found her missing. Joked with Branden, Katy came back, and we got into a theology debate with each other.

This happens pretty often, actually. Her family's Agnostic, whereas I grew up Lutheran and am now Pagan. We debate the values of different belief systems, comparing them with science, what works best . . . Katy is probably the single most important person I know when it comes to how I shaped my beliefs. She's gotten me to question a lot of the things I wouldn't have otherwise, and I've done the same for her.

So we were talking, and Olivia was sitting behind us, doodling on an old math worksheet and asked what the difference between Agnostic and Atheist is. Katy gave a . . . snappish answer, for her, and I translated it into normal human speech. Olivia nodded, and we both thought that was that, and went back to ignoring the world around us. Well, I made a snarky comment about 'it takes two' to create a universe, and Olivia breaks in again. 'Oh . . . so you're Pagan?'

Janie needs to learn to pay attention to her surrounding, yes she does. At that point, I froze for a second and looked around the room - Olivia, Lauren, and Branden had been listening to out conversation. Greeeaat. Just wonderful. At any rate, I nodded, and went back to talking to Katy, in a slightly more subdued voice, mentioning to the three of them that, as far as anyone in my family knows the most I am is Agnostic, or else a really, really bad Christian. (I ask too many questions, apparently. Where's my childlike faith and all that? Out. The. Window.)

I am so, so glad that no one freaked out - I half expected Lauren to, since she's very preach-y about Jesus. As it is, she just gave me a pitying look and went on talking to Branden.

I think I'll buy a zipper to attach to my lips when my family goes to the local base tomorrow.

 - Janie L.

Post Script: I've figured out exactly how I'll come out to my parents: My first Christmas out of the house, I'll stay either on campus or on base, depending on if I join up or not, and I'll send my parents and sister two things for all of them One will be an envelope, marked '#1' and inside will be a letter saying that I'm not Christian, and if they aren't okay with that, don't open the second package. Just . . .  burn it, or something. The second package will hold a copy of 'When Someone You Loves is Wiccan' and 'Buckland's Complete Guide to Witchcraft' along with the web address for this blog.

Meanwhile I'll be across the country or at least not in the area to see the reaction. Cowardly, but I think I'll stick with it. *strained smile*

I Would Love a 'Moving Furniture' Spell

Why? Because I spent all week clearing out my room(I have far too much stuff) so I could get a bed in. Then I got to move everything around because, hey, it was getting cleared out anyway, right? It's not that I'm not happy about it - I'm ecstatic, I have under-the-bed storage space now - but it took ages. I now see why people say you burn calories cleaning: it's true.

I still have clutter, of course - I likely always will, coming from a family of packrats - but it's now the cleanest bedroom in the house!

This must be what spring cleaning feels like. It's nice. :-)

It'll be even better when I can find the key to the filing cabinet again and get my art supplies off my altar/desk. Otherwise, I may end up using my windowsill, and then I risk candles falling onto my nice new bed. And explaining to mom and dad that 'oh, by the way, I was celebrating Beltane, a Wiccan holy day, and I knocked my Goddess candle over, set my sheets alight, and now the house is on fire, so let's get out, ok, bye!'

That'd go over well. You know, not. I'm pretty sure I'd burn with the bedsheets . . .

Okay, exaggerating, but I'd be in mounds of uh-oh. Unlike my recently found stuffed animals - I horded them as a kid, and now they've aken over my bed so I keep falling of it(for the record: OW!). Aside from sleeping space, though, I've got tons of room now. Here, see the terrible Paint picture:

This is the room as it was. That fuzzy stuff from the spraypaint tool? Clutter and trash.

And TA-DAAAA! Nice new, clutter-free room for the Janie Person! Look, even the bins of Dad's old stuff(this used to be his office until I took it over while he was in Iraq a few years ago) are gone! I shoved them into the garage.

 . . . Don't believe me on the clutter-free bit? I don't blame you: I'm still sorting through it all. Still - I DO have the cleanest room in the house, now! And most picked-up, too. :-) Here's a more accurate shot:

There's the clutter! Tiny bits I couldn't get up without a vaccuum around the new sleighbed style daybed, some under and around the end table, and more spilling out of my closet. The old never-watched TV is shoved in the closet, covered in a blue and gold curtain, and is now a very pretty cat perch. X-)

A spell to move the furniture for me would still be great, though.

 - Janie L.

Raise Your Hand If This Irritates You

*shoots both arms in the air and hops up and down*

Here would probably be where it's a good idea to, oh, let people know what I'm talking about? Yeah . . . What is it with Wiccans and Christianity? If they EVER reference another religion outside the umbrella term Pagan, it's Christianity. I mean, it's not always negative, a lot of times it's just an off the cuff thing.

But still.

There's Daoism, Judaism, Jainism, Hindu, Islam, hey, even Universalism Unitarianism! I get that a lot of witches, Wiccans and Pagans originally came from Christian backgrounds - it's a percentage thing. Still, it's annoying, and so many people reference it when in all honesty there is no NEED to . . .

It just gets me. Lots of articles and books would be so much better if they just stuck with their topic and sayed with it, no outside references.

Rolling my eyes,

 - Janie L.

Cast Tee Shirts!

I want to go into graphic design someday. I've been happy to get some practice in on that for drama. The director, Mrs Gale, is ordering tee shirts for all the cast, and I was asked to design them! Go me, right? Here are the pics:

Pretty dang sweet, right? This is the front of the shirt. It took forever to settle on it - mabe I'll post the less-than-brilliant drafts later . . . . Or, you know, not.

Here is the back of the shirt. This design header will go across the wearer's shoulderblades, and the signatures of the entire cast and crew will go below it down the back. That part was Mrs Gale's idea - I had thought to leave it blank, and have the name of the play go diagonally across the back from hip to shoulder.

I like her idea better.

Anyway, I'm going back to my Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Avatar: The Last Airbender marathon, and has anyone else noticed that a LOT of the Avatar themes can be related to paganism?

Care,

 - Janie L.

Oh, drat. I still haven't done my Geometry assignment, have I? *facepalms*

The Joy of Slumber Parties

 . . . Does going to a friends house to see 'Hairspray' and eat chocolate chip pancakes after finally doing the last show count as a slumber party? I think it's more of a sleepover. Yes, in my mind, there is a difference.

It was . . . something of an eye opener. I never really realised that people, real life in my life people, could be so very accepting. I forgot to take one of my magick books out of my bag before we left the school, and Katy's mom saw it. Didn't even comment, just asked if I wanted chocolate sauce or maple syrup on my pancakes.

I loved it.

The play, if anyone wondered, went off without a hitch - more than I can say for opening night! That was something of a minor prop disaster. Only glitches on Friday were with lines, and the audience didn't even notice. Cue silly grin, yeah?

Friday's a day for my history books, I think. A perfect play, the shock of my best friend's little sister being downright sweet when she's beyond tired, and realising that, yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus   yes, people over thirty can be accepting of other beliefs? It was a perfect day.

Don't feed the plants!

 - Janie L.

Playing with Words

As the title of this blog admits, I am in the broom closet to nearly everyone I know. At the same time, I honestly hate to lie to them. It's definitely made me aware of how one can twist the way they say something to be interpereted entirely differently.

For example . . . Easter is upon us, and very often lately I've been asked about what I'm doing for it - am I going to see my extended family, is my family doing an egg hunt, etc. So, I've found myself . . . misleading people. 'My family's Lutheran' = 'I'm Lutheran.' The former is what I say: it's not quite a lie. The latter is an assumption made by others.

It still feels like a lie, though. Goddess, I can't wait for college. Safely e-mailing family members saying, 'oh, hey, by the way . . . I'm a witch! Check out my blog' from across the country . . .  Tactless and oh-so-very safe.

Cheers,

 - Janie L.

Nightmare Fix

My little sister has problems sleeping. A lot. She generally comes to me about them, has for years now. Why? Because I don't send her to bed with a pat on the head, a hug, and soothing nonsense. Instead, I usually purofy her dreamcatcher, sprinkle a little rosemary on her pillow, and make her a nice hot chocolate with cinnamon. She's usually good for about three months after that. Ended up doing it again a few days ago. Thought I'd put it up, maybe help some other sap with a sleepless llittle sis. (That was a joke, hint, hint.)

To do this, all you will need is a white tealight candle, about a tablespoon of salt, a stone of any type, incense, and a bowl of water. And, of course, the dreamcatcher.

First, set the dreamcatcher on the salt. Fell free to spread it around a bit, to get the grains on the whole thing. Light the candle and the incense, and hold the stone in your hands, close to your solar plexus(the centre of the bottom of your ribs). Say,

"Little stone I hold you near
To call on Earth and drive off fear."

Now hold the stone with the tips of your fingers over the incense so that the smoke touches it, and say,

"Air that rises before me,
I ask you to bring forth sweet dreams."

Continue holding the stone in the snoke until you feel ready to continue to the next part. Then, hold the stone over the flame, close enough that you can feel it's warmth, and say,

"Fire flickering above the wick,
Burn the nightmares, remove their sick."

Finally for the elements portion, hold the stone in one hand, dip the fingers of your other hand in the bowl of water, and sprinkle the water on the stone, saying,

"Water dripping from my hands,
Drive the ill from dreamland."

Once you've done this, set the stone on the salt and dreamcatcher with a murmured,

"Evil dreams from within the mind,
Disappear, leave naught behind."

Leave everything until the tealight candle burns out, then take the stone outside and bury it, return it to the earth. After this, just take the dreamcatcher, hang it where the sun will touch it ewach morning to dissolve any bad dreams caught in the night, and you're good.

Nighty-night, I'm making orange juice and watching Buffy.

 - Janie L.

(P.S. - Lucky blog entry #7! Yay!)

Change and Long Hard Looks

Honestly,you'd think you would know a person pretty well after . . . one sec while I count . . . . just under six years. And all it takes is sharing a class together for the first time to totally change that.

Maybe I should explain. Jessica is one of my best friends, one of the closest people to me. I'd like to think so, anyway. I've known her since summer camp, just before sixth grade. Until the beginning of this school year, to me she's always been Jessica: introverted, shy, opinionated, fellow geek Jessica. Jessica who I watch Merlin and Vampire Diaries with, whose fanfiction I tease her about while I read it over her shoulder, whose dog I help her chase around the neighbourhood.

Then we got AP English Literature together. We sit next to one another even.

Jess is clingy and an isolationist . . . me and Kate are pretty much her only friends. Even though we've shared a table with six other people at lunch for two years now. But even Preston, friend of all, has mentioned that she doesn't like talking to people. She just its there, talks to me and Kate, and ignores everyone else. She has told me that my sister and I are her only 'real' friends and she'd probably be in a mental hospital if not for us.

Jess hates people easily, even fictional/dead ones. We're reading 'Brave New World' in class, and she won't stop repeating that she hates, hates, hates it, would rather read the most boring books on the planet, and that the characters should all die, along with the already-dead author. If she woke up in the book, she says, she'd murder everybody in it. I also found out today that she can speak very easily of having Christian Fundamentalists thrown out of funerals and purposely run over. Frankly, that she could say that about anyone scares me, and now I'm reconsidering coming out to her like I'd planned . . . Why?

Because Jess is narrow-minded and hypocritical. She refuses to even consider the idea that someone believing in deity is valid - Kate and I, apparently, are the sole exceptions. I've been fine with that - she has the right to her opinion, after all, even if I disagree. Even if she loudly states her dislike of anyone that disagrees with her. She is smarter than everyone else, because they are all jerks. At the same time, she is a stupid idiot who can't get her grades up . . . yet is on honor roll and been asked to join the dual enrollment program. She can't make friends - but she shouldn't have to talk to the idiots she shares classes with, becaue they annoy her. The army is stupid, but we should just nuke the terrorists and 'be done with it, already!'

You think you know a person. Don't get me wrong, the Jess I know and love is still there . . . but now I see another side to her, as well, and it's making me change my views on her. It's also making me take a long, long look at myself.

Frankly, I'm not sure I like what I see, and a conversation I had with my dad today compounded that. It was while we were having a bite to eat with all the other JROTC cadets and parents in the school courtyard before the annual awards ceremony, and he asked why I was sitting with him and not one of my cadet friends. I was honest - I don't have many, and the ones I do have were busy getting food or talking to their parents, or plattons-mates. I sighed a little, mentioned how I wished I was better at making friends - I know my social skills tend to lean toward the awkward end of the scale.

Next thing I know, Dad mentions that, well, it might be because I scowl at everyone, and seem to value most in a person their ability to leave me alone. I see everyone as an idiot and they have to prove to me otherwise.

Just . . . like . . . Jess.

They say that one hates in others what one hates most in themself. I think its true, and now I'm trying to change it. Once Dad and I finished up, I ran to the ladies' and noticed that, hey, yeah, I do have a semi-perpetual frown. So I tilted my lips upward, and headed out in search of my few friends.

Didn't see them.

Instead, I started chatting with a girl I half-recognised from being in either band or near me in the parade our JROTC program was in a few months ago. It could very easily be that I recall her from both. And you know what? After a few moments of awkwardness on my part, thinking 'OMG, OMGs, I don't know what to do here!' it turned out that talking to people? Is pretty easy. It's like parties, I guess - a lot easier once you actually get on the dance floor(and have lots and lots of Pepsi.)

So I talked. I laughed. I glomped my friend Kiera when she walked by. When she introduced me to her boyfriend, I quoted 'The Big Bang Theory''s latest episode and explained the origins of the Vulcan hand sign. At Little Shop practise, I left my book aside, and doodled on Jade's and Katrina's arms, as well as my own. I debated the merits of the Green Lantern over those of several other comic book characters. I periodically lost track of my cell phone and memo book. I shrugged and just joined in the last scene in the play, ran around the auditorium behind Brandon, and had a hey old time laughing about it. Ms Gale didn't even call me out on it. I goofed around with Allie about the 'dirty teenager-found meanings' behind every single song in the play - her quote, not mine.

And I feel great. I've been smiling for most of the day, and I'm just so very, very happy.

I need to talk to my dad more often.

 - Janie L.

Why Little Shop Can Officially Go Eat Eggs

I love drama. Not real drama - no, no, no, that I leave Katrina Darling Twin o' Mine to deal with - but the stage. Acting, singing, set design, props - heaven. I can be geeky and dorky and sing off key on purpose, and it's all part and parcel to being a Thespian.

But I seriously hate Little Shop of Horrors.

Why? Because meltdowns suck. No chorus concert, part in a play, or church choir solo has ever made me have a meltdown. Until Little Shop. Oh, final number, how do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways . . .

Alright, well, maybe it isn't totally the play's fault. *cough*mostly is*cough* The blame could be equally spread to me failing an AP English Lit test, having to dodge an egg experiment in Physical Science again, staying up until 12 AM, having to re-paint a poster prop, and the director, Ms Gale, not telling me what to do in the final scene when I'd asked her two days in a row already and having to ask other, equally clueless students to get even a vague idea.

So, yeah, I've been kinda 'fragile' emotionally the past few days. Thus, the walking out of the scene unnoticed to have a silent crying jag leaning on the baby grand in the non-wings. (Smart School my cat.) Thankfully, only the guy playing Twoey, Solomon, noticed, and he's great - left me alone when I asked and everything. Katy did, too, of course - but she's my best friend and has the attention span of a squirell on crack, so it was inevitable that she'd get distracted from running into the audience and hide out backstage to get a Pepsi.

 All this equals out to, in my mind, Little SHop having free reign to go suck an egg. A rotten egg. Because if I get pissed off at Ms Gale, she can boot me out very easily. I'm just an extra, after all - actual parts require Senior privileges. Cue teenage eyeroll multiplieed by a thousand and six. Because it's a nice, odd number.

Suddenly craving an exactly even number of potato chips,

 - Janie L.

Book Inspired Name . . . A "What Works Witch"

I've found a new title for myself, outside of 'witch,' 'pagan,' and 'eclectic,' that is.

The What Works Witch.

That sums it up quite nicely, don't you agree? It very much describes my practise, when you think about it. I favour variety, in everything from ritual to candle size. If it works, I use it. Things like mirrors? Yeah . . . they don't work. I avoid them. More on that (much) later, though. But what about symbols? I love them. Very, very easy things to use, able to be made anywhere, with anything. Protection? Draw a shield on your wrist. A little 'oomph' in that spell you're casting? Draw a pentagram. Ooh, hey, you could really use some help calling on the god and goddess(and remembering which side of you each one is on). Draw the symbol for the god, )O on one wrist, and the triple moon symbol for the goddess, )O( on the other. For balance, the hieroglyphs for life - an ankh - and death - the duat - on the back of each hand or on each shoulder. My suggestion for that one is using it at either Mabon or Samhain.

Oops, that was a tangent, wasn't it? My bad! Still, though . . . if it works, I use it. So WWW I am.

 . . . No, I'm not Fred OR George. Weasley's Wizrd Wheezes indeed. Tin I am, but I am a girl. *Studiously ignoring the red hair and tendency to joke around, and completely shutting out the twin and magic parts of things*

 - Janie L.

The Secret Life of the American Teenager . . .

. . . No, no, not the show. Definitely not the show. I couldn't stand it past the first season: too much blah. :/ I couldn't even stand it very much during the first season, for that matter . . .

But the title IS fitting. Only one of the friends I've 'come out' to goes to my school: Katy's Agnostic, and one of the most open minded people I know. She's very laid back and quirky and . . . Completely, totally, and utterly baffled by the concept of 'secret.' Case in point: We're both in Chorus. We are doing a duet in the end of year concert this May, and were practicing in the hall outside the classroom. A couple band kids were at the other end with their flutes, and three other girls were practising for the barber shop quartet they'll be doing with one of the only boys in the class. He's doing about three acts with different groups AND a solo, so wasn't with them.

Anyway, Katy and I had to stop singing because, frankly, spending all day Saturday heckling the Tortuga Twins at the Renn Faire shot my voice, and when I'm barely able to sing first Soprano well anyway . . . After three runs I couldn't hit pitch right anymore, and we got to talking. Didn't want to go back into the classroom and explain to Mrs Rivera, after all. We ended up talking about books, which led to that spell book my cat was sitting on last night, at which point the conversation turned to Sabbats and the spell I cast to help my little sister sleep better at night.

Suddenly, I became very aware that, hey, I was about this in a corridor with five other people in it. And I am very much not out. Whoopsie. So I steered the conversation to the poster I've painted for the school's musical this year, Little Shop of Horrors. Still, it's got me to wondering . . . should I stay 'in'? I don't know. I like being able to talk about it openly, and most of my friends are as fair minded a group of people as you could meet. Heck, Jonathan's Grandma-in-Law was a witch, and he loves telling stories about her, she's great. Makes really yummy brownies, too.

. . . But I'm still scared. If my sister, Kate, didn't go to the same school as me? I'd be cool with telling everyone that asked. I've had the question directed before: apparently crescent moon necklaces are a bit of a give away. Even if I was in the IB program and not the traditional one with her, I'd probably be fine with it. Outside of electives, there's no interaction, after all.

But as it is, we share homeroom, lunch, and most of our friends. We spend hours together after school prepping for the play. Our rooms share a wall. We see each other in the hallways all the time. She's my identical twin, for Pete's sake, and I haven't told her. My best friend. My very, very Lutheran best friend. Who doesn't like her point of view being changed. At all.

So I'm in the closet to . . . everyone in my family except my little sister. She's ten and doesn't fully understand that 'Janie does spells to protect me, and thinks God has a wife' translates to 'Janie believes in a different god than I do, and isn't Christian.' She just knows that Mommy and Daddy would be freaked out if they saw my spell jars or knew I blessed her dream catcher so she wouldn't wake up crying from nightmares.

I suppose my real point to all of this is whether or not it's worth it to be in the closet about my beliefs. Hey, maybe if I was out, I wouldn't get dragged to Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services, or have to take notes during the Pastor's sermons. Or, maybe Dad would think my Uncle Jon, liberal extraordinaire, has rubbed off on me too much and I need therapy. Again. Which really didn't help when he went to Iraq, and won't 'help' convince me to change my faith.

Thoughts?

- Janie L.

I May Have a Weakness for Pretty Pictures . . .

It's so cute! A little gnome, and the flower lights up.
My inability to do more than play with colours in RoxioSuite is something I am VERY aware of right now.

But the picture is so pretty! *smiles and says squee*

It light up!

And because it is also coo-worthy, and I found it first, I present for your optical pleasure . . .



A bunny rabbit.

My girl-ness is showing, I'm cooing over things and dubbing them adorable.

Aww  . . . .. *coos and nudges bunny*

I dub the Snuggles. :)

 - Janie L.

My Cat is Sitting on My Spell Books . . . Again.

Hello, world! Hello blog-o-spere, at any rate. *shrugs* I've been meaning to start one of my own for a while now, and Prince (aforementioned Cat) has finally 'inspired' me to post one.

In other words, he's sitting on my spellbooks. Again.

He does this a lot. So while yes, the books are technically the local Library's . . . I was reading them, dang it! And he keeps on sleeping on them! The cat gets more time with them than I do, I swear. Now, what in the world is a little witch to do when her cat is difficult - when she has an aversion to being scratched for waking him up, thankyouverymuch - and none of her favourite fanfictions have been updated of late? Why, begin a blog, of course. She's been vaguely considering it for a few days, after all.

So . . . hi, there, blog-o-sphere, call me Janie. I am an almost-seventeen-year-old witch, hiding(mostly) in the broom closet from my family and several of my friends. Maybe I'll get around to telling them after graduation . . . and once I've thoroughly convinced my best friend Preston that, no, Pagan does NOT meen anti-Christian cult group. Boy, was that a fun revelation.

Anyway . . .nice to meet you. :)

For your viewing pleasure, a picture of my cat using one of the books as a pillow.

The rest are lying under his tummy and feet. One is hugged between his paws.
Why, Prince, why?

 - Janie L.